


The Siren and the King

by WhiteRosewithThorns



Category: The Cousins' War Series - Philippa Gregory, The White Princess (TV), The White Queen (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Historical Inaccuracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 16:39:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13955682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteRosewithThorns/pseuds/WhiteRosewithThorns
Summary: Daughter of a siren and descendant of Melusine, Elizabeth of York will repeat the tragic love story of her ancestress. While her love affair with the King was sinful and unrecognized, it was true and genuine from her heart.





	The Siren and the King

Alone by herself, Lizzie walked in the woods by the river. She had not seen the King for days, but she still thought of him. She loved him and was not ashamed of it. The King was all alone now, and he could find comfort in her. Why did he have to send her away?

She was surprised when she found him under an oak free, right before her eyes. Could it be a sign? Her own mother the Woodville Queen met her father in the same way. Was he waiting for her as her mother had waited for her father?

He came to her as she walked to him. She dropped her cloak before she embraced him. They kissed, and it was she who initiated it. Nevertheless, the kiss was deepened and the King reached for her lace. Lizzie blushed as he undressed her. He laid her down on her cloak and covered her face with kisses. Lizzie let out a moan when he moved down to her neck and then to her chest. He fondled her breasts before taking her hardened tips into his mouth. 

Please love, she pleaded silently. Don’t stop.

She lifted her hips to allow him strip her completely naked. He parted her legs to torment her womanhood. Her desire for him burned passionately inside. Her pleading was answered when he climbed onto top of her and thrust his manhood into her and broke her hymn.

“Aye!”

Her cries of pain did not stop him. He continued his thrust, deeper and harder each time. Her body moved against his and her nails dug into his back. Her cries continued until he filled her womb with his seeds. 

“Elizabeth,” he said her name. She rested her body against his.

“Yes, Elizabeth,” she said. “I loved it when you call me by that name. I am Elizabeth, a woman who loves you however sinful it is.”

“You know I negotiated a marriage with Portugal,” the King told her. “I will have a new queen.”

“But your heart is mine.”

“You have to go when she comes,” the King said almost painfully. “I will give you an estate. She will be my queen, but she will not have my heart.”

* * *

 

The day of the new queen’s arrival approached. Lizzie had to be sent away. The King did come to say goodbye. No word could come out, and they shed their clothing and made love instead. This time, she rode him and he noticed her belly. 

“Forgive me, Elizabeth,” he held her body against his. “I am a King, and I must do what a King must. Be good to our child.”

Heavily veiled, Lizzie was taken away. She silently swollen her tears.

* * *

 

“Sire,” the bishop said with respect and urgency. “The evidence is solid. She is her mother’s daughter.”

A deformed dead infant’s body was horrifying. 

“The war and famine, sire,” the bishop said. “Queen Joanna has leading the prayers. But it can all end here.”

The King nodded and gave the bishop his approval. The Woodville Queen conspired to help her son regain the throne. There was war and there was famine and then plague. When Lizzie gave birth, the child was born dead and horribly deformed. Lizzie herself had died from childbirth. Rumor had it that her mother had practiced witchcraft to seduce the previous King. No one knew Lizzie was pregnant and the deformed child seemed to came without an explanation. Witchcraft was the only explanation.

With the King’s approval, the bishop had Lizzie’s body stripped naked and dumped in a cart. Her hair was still red as flame and her skin still milky white. The beautiful body that once loved by the King was taken to the stake and consumed by the flame. Miraculously, the plague and famine reduced and the war ended. 

Alone, the King stood under the oak tree. Was Lizzie a witch like her mother? He remembered her grandmother Jacquetta of Luxembourg once told him a tale of Melusine. Like Melusine, Lizzie would never return.


End file.
